


Je pense à toi

by laliquey



Category: Brideshead Revisited - All Media Types, Brideshead Revisited - Evelyn Waugh
Genre: Gen, M/M, Romantic Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-25
Updated: 2013-04-25
Packaged: 2017-12-09 12:29:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/774200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laliquey/pseuds/laliquey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles gets a valentine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Je pense à toi

**Author's Note:**

> Please forgive that canon makes the month of this fic impossible - it's just a little something I thought of as taking place during their happy early days at school.

I'd slept badly and was unprepared for Sebastian's early morning ambush.  
  
He came in as I dressed, with a wide smile and news he was giddy to share. My own unspoken news was that I'd spent all night remembering the tactual pleasure of stroking the nap of his new suit, which he'd insisted I do to appreciate the weave being more silk than wool.  
  
His shill that morning was made of paper. "Oh, Charles, I just had to show you. Aloysius gave me a valentine, look!" It was small, scalloped cutout with a bare cupid dancing across embossed script: _Je pense à toi tout les temps._  
  
The inside was signed with small pencilled claw scratches. "How nice," I said.  
  
"It is, it's absolutely precious! He also asked that I deliver this to you." A pale gray box, thin and flat, landed on the coverlet next to me.  
  
"Did he?"  
  
"Yes. And seemed rather anxious that I leave, perhaps he's got a lady bear I don't know about. You know, Charles, I didn't realize he was quite so fond of you."  
  
The box was tied with a small scarlet bow, and an attached card bore my name in amateur print with a backward R and S.  
  
"Did you write this left-handed?"  
  
"Don't be silly! I didn't write it at all!"  
  
My only tangible memento from Sebastian was the invitation he'd written in conté, which was kept rolled in a drawer I often touched the handle of for luck. That I had two new tokens made my chest tight with excitement, and I shook the box to listen. "What is it?"  
  
"How should I know? At first I thought it might be links and studs, but that's far too unimaginative for Aloysius." He sat with a bounce and wrapped an arm around me. My bed, unaccustomed to the weight of two, pushed us so close I inhaled the verbena scent of his morning shave.  
  
"Go on, Charles," he said, his breath warm in my ear. "Open it."


End file.
